Violence of Existing for Only You
by StorytheBrave
Summary: Through the eyes of those who suffer. Story and Travis meet under consequential and violent circumstances, but their lives were totally different before they met. Follow them from the beginning...
1. Story's Story

_**Note: During WWII**_

_**Story's POV**_

_**December 13, 1943**_

The sun had started setting, a dangerous time for a young girl like Story to be wandering outside during these times. But the girl continued down the sidewalk as if there wasn't a war going on and picked up the pace with her arms full of library books. Story's breath hung in the winter air as she ran home. A wind shook her and she gasped as it took her hat off her head. Story dropped her books and took off running for her purple winter hat. No one was outside so she wouldn't be caught lollygagging at curfew; peoples blackout shades were drawn and life was only visible through the lit windows of daring families. Story's hat blew into a shrub where it was snagged from the wind. Story breathed a sigh of relief, her mother had knit her this hat and she would hate to lose it. She traced back her steps to where her books lay scattered on the sidewalk, Story hurriedly put them back into her pile and started off back home.

The sun had now begun the rest in the crook of the mountains, causing a red glow onto everything, the sky had been following the sun, because now it ranged between a black cloak and a purple bruise. Story knew she would be home soon and she should not worry, she actually laughed at herself, the blackout curtains did nothing. The enemy would drop a bomb anywhere and it would not matter if it was as black as licorice or bright as a sunny day!

Story was on her street now, she turned left at the old oak that mimicked the one right across the street. Her neighborhood was, in fact, beautiful. It was guarded by Weeping Willows and cheery Dog Woods, but not now. The bare and dormant trees were a sad reminder of what this was had caused: sadness, death. They made the unbearable times even more unbearable. How Story could remember when the trees blossomed and the spring breezes blew their way; her mother outside gardening. They were now a Joker in the deck of cards Story had been dealt; not useful, and regrettable to see.

Story was now in front of here neighbor's house. The old couple there probably put down their blackout shades at three o'clock they were so frightened! But Story did not laugh at the antics of her neighbors, for a rustling came from the hydrangea bushes that separated her neighbor's house and hers. Story's heart skipped a beat; she had heard about stories like this: a young girl taken feet from her own home, why, her mother had been reading one in the newspaper last week! But the rustling stopped. It was probably a dog, or a mouse, Story thought to calm down. But as she passed the rustling started again. More annoyed with the animal that lurked in the bush to scare her, she called out, "Hello?" No response, and once again the noise quieted. As she started to walk again, Story saw a flash of white across the street. Certain it was nothing, she continued up her porch steps, but something made her stop mid-stair. A man stood beneath the oak at the corner. From what she could see the man wasn't around here, nor had he been notified about the weather. He did not have a coat! Story felt threatened to yell out, "You know there's a war on!" and ask him why he was not indoors at a time like this. Story, being the blunt girl she was dropped her books on the porch landing and preceded to march back to where the man was standing. When she arrived in front of him though, he answered her call, "Hello." He said, uncurling his lips to reviled two rows of perfect, straight teeth. Story marveled at him, no one she knew had these perfect teeth! She moved upwards on his face. He had sharp, pointed features and his eyes seemed to be squinted as they took in Story. But his eyes. They shown brightly, they were dark. Black as the night. It shocked her, Story's instincts budded. Run! They screamed, so Story listened, only to trip as she turned around on a crack in the sidewalk. The man hissed a laugh.

"Well, well. It seems as if I will have my meal tonight…" He sang squatting next to her. Story's eyes brimmed with tears. Her hand had scuffed against the hard cement and was now bleeding. But the man took no pity on her hurt self, he quickly grabbed her hand from underneath her and sucked the blood from the wound. Horrified, Story tried to scream but her vocal cords had seemed to have constricted. The man continued to drink her blood until she could feel no more with her hand. The man looked up at her from underneath his lashes.

"My, my, you do taste good don't you?" He laughed, but Story struggled from his grip, she managed to stand up but the man twisted her wrist and she could hear the bones break. Story screamed now, tears spilling from her eyes. The man smiled coldly, he reached and cupped her chin.

"Don't try and break free." He flexed his hand, Story yelled in pain as her jaw broke. Now he had her, Story now realized she could not fight back, he would just continue to hurt her. The man must have sensed her defeat, he put his face next to her ear and whispered: "I will kill you now, precious, but I will do it fast, for you have suffered enough." He said. Story stuttered, trying to find the words to make this man stop from killing her. He laugh again.

"You have amused me tonight. Maybe I won't kill you," He weighed the options, "Yes, I think that will be fit. But first, let me taste blood that I have caused to bleed," And the man bit her. His sharp teeth sank into her skin as a knife into a tender steak. Story was petrified, she did not wriggle as the man bit into her flesh, or as her left her weak body in the woods behind the city. She stayed silent. The man broke his promise, he was going to let her die! But pain washed away thought and brought her to the pits of Hell. Flames branded the insides of her body; she felt as if she had been stuck into a oven. The pain caused her body to curl into the fetal position and she could hear-outside her numb brain- her wails of pain. She cried hot tears of self-pity.

Story laid on the forest floor for two days, the pain hitting her wave after dreadful wave. She whimpered, her eyes were too tightly squeezed against the pain that she could not see the snow fall and bury her under as she lay stiff in the palm of crippling pain.

By the third day, Story could feel the pain slipping from her body, she could now ease into a simple laying position and watch as the sky changed and the snow continuously packed into drifts and mounds. By the night of that day Story stood up, feeling more powerful than she had while she was alive. Her skin was the color of the snow around her, her hair a ripple of dark coffee. She was not human anymore, nor did she know what she was entirely, but she was certain she would…

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	2. Travis' Story

_**Note: Travis's parents died on the Titanic in 1912, that same year, Travis was sent to a boarding school for his last year of schooling (he is 19). He was supposed to follow his parents back to America after his nineteenth birthday. He lived in London.**_

_**Travis' Story **_

_**September 1, 1912**_

The shadow of a tall boy shown in the darkened park under a street lamp. The boy's voice carried through the empty park, he was singing a rather, groggy version of Happy Birthday to himself, slurring the words and sometimes even forgetting them. Travis, shoved his hand into his trouser pocket and located the extraneous cigarette in his pocket. He drew a match from his shirt pocket and took a long drag from the cigarette and continued to sing to himself:

"Happy _birthday _to me-me." He hiccupped, walking through the park, tripping over his own feet. He took another drag and blew the smoke straight into the sky, laughing as it covered the stars in a pillow of smog. He watched the smoke dissipate and walked goofily to the rusted park bench. He fell into it hard and letting his head fall with the weight of gravity behind him. His looked at the wonder of stars winking at him on this warm, September night.

If it were truly the nineteenth birthday he had seen in the beginning of the year, he would probably be on a boat tomorrow to reunite with his parents. But since his parents had died and left him in that shit hole of a school he had been acting like this. When he had finally been released from the hell that was that school, he had been sleeping under bridges, with prostitutes. Finding ways to forget that his whole life had gone to the dogs when his parents had boarded that _ship. _When they had said their goodbyes he could feel it, something would bring his world, his plans, to turmoil.

Travis let another cloud of smoke cover his starry view, watching as they disappeared into the night. He did feel pity for himself, a lot actually. When he woke up with a strange woman in his bed; or when he forgot everything that happened the night before and he was in _Hatfield_. That's when he felt bad for himself. When he realized he was alone to his fathers name. No brothers, or sisters. He had a mansion, a private car and a driver to go along with it, butlers and maids. But that's what his parents had lived for, the pride and prestige of high society, Travis would rather be with the rats or with the poor men drinking away their paychecks in the pubs.

Travis check his watch, four thirty am. He needed to be on his way. Travis swayed as his lifted himself from the bench and stretched his long, lean limbs. He belched loudly, feeling the nausea begin to rise in him, but he didn't mind. The sicker he was, the easier he could hide away from life. He reached into his other trouser pocket, finding the small bottle of brandy and finishing it. He once again picked up his line from his song:

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday you _bastard _Travis, happy birthday to me!" He sang, walking as he finished his cigarette and threw it into the trees, but he did not hear a _hiss _of it extinguishing itself. Nervous that he might start a fire, he searched in the dark for the cigarette. Not seeming to find it, he stood up from his crouched position to come face to face with the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

In the dark, her face was illuminated like the stars, perfectly white and gleaming. Her full lips were a ruby red, and her body held every man's imaginative fantasies. Blushing, he stumbled over his words saying,

"Well, hello madam."

"Hello." She said, her words whistling like wind through grass. A warm feeling climbed into his head, but he shook it off. "Your not affected by my charm?" She cocked her head slightly, the moon glancing off her exposed cheek, glittering in the light.

"Ma'am you are indeed very beautiful, but I am not understanding you." Travis said, as confused as she was.

"Oh, well, I guess it is nothing." She sang again. Suddenly, a warm wind blew, pushing Travis' hair against his head. The woman took notice to the sudden wind and looked up at Travis through her long lashes. "My dear man, would you mind walking me to the nearest hotel." She asked. Feeling gentlemanly, Travis looped his arm through hers, and walked out of the woods and onto the path again.

Once they were on the path again, Travis took in more features about this girl. She had dark red hair, moving like ocean waves when she moved. She was tall and poised, nearly as tall as Travis himself. She wore a very fashionable dress, Travis guessed she came from a good name.

Before he had noticed it, Travis and the woman had already arrived at the park's entrance gate. Shockingly, the woman stopped and pulled Travis in front of her with unexpected strength. The beautiful woman now had disposition in her eyes. Travis had not noticed it, but the woman had strange eyes. They were red. A frightening red that caused shivers to echo down his back. The woman started to walk very fast now.

"Well, I guess now I will explain. I am Genevieve. Now, I am, well, very hungry." She sighed.

"There is a nice restaurant down the lane but they don't open till morning-" But Genevieve continued speaking.

"Not hungry like that! But you look tasty enough. Now, hold still!" Genevieve stepped closer, putting her hands on Travis' shoulders and pulling him to her as if to kiss him. But she did not. She bit him. Her teeth sank into his skin. He could feel her sucking his blood, he was becoming weaker and weaker. Finding the strength, he struggled to release himself, but couldn't move under her pressure. He called out, but no one was awake at this hour.

Genevieve continued to suck his blood, the loss of it hitting Travis hard. He was losing consciousness, he forced his eyes open. Finally, Genevieve let him go, his limp body fell to the ground. She stood over him, deciding what to do next. She suddenly grabbed him under the arms and heaved him under a vacant tunnel. Then she left him. Travis floated in a space all his own, letting his mind compress the facts he had just experienced.

Before he could think too much, the heat settled in. A pain that fell onto him like bricks, his body arched and tried to escape the intruding pain. A fire rolled onto him and licked his very skin, leaving a tingling sensation that felt like lightning bolts upon his body. He cried and wailed, but nothing could suppress the pain. He gasped for anything that would save him from being killed like this, but nothing came forth, no white gates or angels singing praises. He was in Hell, but he was wondering why he was burning here on Earth.

Travis laid, uninterrupted, for three days, until he could open his eyes again and he could feel the cold cement under his skin and see the blue sky above. The pain had dissipated like the smoke in the sky. He felt stronger, powerful. Many things raced through his mind and he was still able to concentrate on every thought. His skin had paled and his throat roared with hunger. He was different, and he liked it.

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	3. 1962

_**Note: This is during the time that John Glenn orbit around the Earth. People watched the launch and listened to the transmissions, there were no camera's in the cockpit.**_

_**February 20, 1962** _

The silhouette of a small girl appeared on the outside of the Johnston's house, it held there as the small family inside found the station on their radio to listen to the launch. Everyone was tense this day for, the first American man would go up into space and orbit the Earth. John Glenn. His name was mentioned many times this day as fathers prepared to show his children a part of history.

The shadow now perched itself on the windowsill of the house, where, it was a perfect view into the living room. She listened closely, but she didn't bother, her hearing was ten times the strength of a humans. She brought her knee to her chin, swinging her other leg freely.

Her own parents were probably listening to this too. That thought made Story's spirit lift, they were doing the exact same thing as she was now, rather when she was hunting humans to feed herself. She may have even been married, had children, brought them over to her parent's house to celebrate the day. But no, she was stuck in this eternal body forever; her face would never grow old, her hands wrinkle with time. She would have this heart-shaped, flawless face forever. And no one to share the time with.

Story's throat began to blazingly burn, a smell hit her nose. _Human_, she thought and hopped off the sill soundlessly. She saw the boy walking down the sidewalk, sadly, she would have to kill him. She hated this part of her new life, the killing, the innocent slaughter, but she had to. She crept in the shadows behind him. He had no idea, and then she lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and hitting the pressure point in his neck that would cause him to go unconscious. As soon as she had done it, she lifted him under the arms and heaved him onto her back. And then she ran. She practically flew with the weightless body on her back. She ran until she was outside the city and placed him on the ground. She had just started to find the best place to bite him when a voice materialized behind her. She snarled. _Vampire_.

"Please, don't do this." A calm voice pleaded. Story turned around to face a tall man with blonde hair and a face like an angel, he had all the components of a vampire: pale, beautiful. But he had different eyes. His were golden, unlike her red ones.

"Who died and made you God?" She growled. The man stepped closer invading her personal space. "Excuse me, since your not making any sense right now, I am very hungry-" She turned to leave, but the man was already in front of her, holding his hand to barricade her from her prey. He looked down onto her with compassion, with eyes that willed her to stop. Pondering, Story let her guard down, he would not hurt her.

"Thank you," He sensed the air being cleared. "Let me introduce myself. I am Carlisle Cullen, and I would like to talk to you about something. There is no reason for killing the innocent. Me and my family we live differently than any other coven. We only feed on the blood of animals. It is a great substitute for the blood of humans, and we can live in society." He explained. Story stood very still, drinking in every word.

"So you, you have jobs?" She asked simply.

"Yes," He answered, "And my children go to the local high school." Story stood in awe. To go back to school, communicate with others… It was a great offer. Story stared back up to Carlisle.

"So what, is there an initiation?" She asked, "I mean, can we go hunting now, because, I am very hungry, as you can see." She motioned to the unconscious human in front of them. Carlisle laughed.

"Well of course! Follow me, I'll bring you closer to my home and we can hunt there." He turned to the north and held out his hand to her. Story gasped it happily, to be with another of her kind! It was bliss! They started to run, until Carlisle stopped where it was colder and a soft rain fell from the sky. She could see lights of a house on a hill above them, the only sign of living in the wide open space. She stood in the rain and felt as if she wanted to cry, she would be with others soon! Happiness overwhelmed her, filling the empty shell that was her immortal body with a warmth. Carlisle cleared his throat,

"Welcome, Story, to my home." Carlisle sighed as mesmerized as she, "But first, you need some food." He smiled wickedly in the night, his teeth illuminating in the dark. He now led and they flew through the underbrush of the forest coming upon a grazing heard of deer. Carlisle whispered quickly to her,

"You can go for the largest one, bite it in the neck." And Story shot off like a bullet. She found the large buck and tackled it to the ground, biting down into his furry neck. Story felt the warmth of the animals blood run down her throat. She drained him quickly and launched herself onto another, and another. Until Carlisle and herself had fed off the entire herd. She smiled as Carlisle led her back to his house. Her plain shirt was splattered with blood, while Carlisle's was still the spotless white.

"How did you do that?" She asked in wonder, pointing at his clean shirt.

"Over time you get used to the feeding process." He chuckled, "Now, don't worry about your shirt, Alice will surly find you something in that closet of hers."

"Alice?" Story asked.

"Yes, I have two daughters, Rosalie and Alice, and three boys Jasper, Edward, and Emmett. My wife is Esme. Rosalie and Emmett are mates as are Alice and Jasper." He smiled, "But Edward has no one, at least not yet…" He thought, glancing at Story.

"Wait, hold on! I'm _not _going to fall in love with your son!" Story exclaimed.

"No, no! I'm just saying that he doesn't have a mate yet." He explained thoughtfully.

"You have better been." Story warned, and without realizing it, they were already at the house. It was monumental. It was a mansion at the least, all stone, looking like a lodge with a gigantic fireplace erupting on one side. "Wow…" Story said out loud. Carlisle opened the door in a swift motion, Story following behind silently. She was entering another's territory, but she felt relaxed still. Inside, the house was made up of dark leather and wood paneling.

A group of six vampires sat chattering in the den, not paying attention as Carlisle walked in the house, but when a young girl followed him, they all stood abruptly. Esme looked to her husband for the green light, he nodded.

"Everyone, this is Story, she's going to be living with us now." He smiled and led Story closer to the family. The six vampires said hello to the new girl, they looked her up and down. She had dark brown hair hanging to her mid-shoulder and skinny features. Her arms were like toothpicks and they could see the bone, but she had developed into a woman with the transition. Her eyes were just starting to turn from their original red color to their own golden color.

"Ah, I see Carlisle's converted you." A burly vampire chuckled.

"Well he didn't use a Bible, but yes he did." She smiled, and the Cullen's laughed.

"Story this is my family. Carlisle invited all of them to come forward.

First, a tall blonde beauty came and shook Story's hand, she had a sneer but introduced herself anyways.

"Hello, I'm Rosalie." She said quickly and moved back to the den. Next, thin, blonde boy came up.

"Hello," He said with a slight Southern accent, "I'm Jasper." He smiled, and shook her hand politely. And stood off to the side. Now a tall boy with unruly brown hair came to her and held out his hand.

"I'm Edward." Behind him the burly vampire faked a cough and said, "The virgin". Edward rolled his eyes and walked away. The burly boy now came up.

"I'm Emmett." He smiled and pulled Story into a bear hug. Story was shocked at the hug and giggled with glee.

"Okay, okay! Hi Emmett!" She said and Emmett sat her back down, he broke off with a loud, booming laugh and went back to stand with Edward. The woman that appeared to be Carlisle's wife came up and gave the girl a short hug and said: "Welcome to the family." She said and went t stand next to Carlisle, who put his arm around her and planted a grateful kiss on her cheek. There was still another girl to introduce herself. She was small and had dark, spiky hair that went out at different angles. She was shorter than Story and barley went to her shoulder. She stuck out her small hand and said with a wind chime voice:

"You need a new shirt." Story looked over to Carlisle where he stood, stifling a laugh. He was right, in more than one ways…

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